Forget the refugee crisis and Brexit. There is another pressing question at hand in Brussels: Who gave European Commission Vice President Jyrki Katainen a didgeridoo?

The instrument given to the former Finnish prime minister as an official gift has been entered on a public register, according to the commissioners’ code of conduct, and stored in a room deep underground in the bowels of the Berlaymont, where presents to commissioners are kept.

It is known to insiders as the “Ali Baba cave.”

Ethics guidelines forbid commissioners from accepting gifts worth over €150, but they often have to make a show of publicly accepting them to avoid a diplomatic slight. Assistants later squirrel the gifts away in the “cave.”

The didgeridoo, an indigenous Australian wind instrument, is one of the more bizarre gifts given to commissioners. All presents worth more than €150 must be declared and can be kept for use by commissioners during their mandate, then handed to the Protocol Service when their term in Brussels ends. Official gifts can also be donated or auctioned for charity.

Presents that commissioners don’t want to use, that can’t be donated because it would cause diplomatic offense, or that are simply too tacky to be auctioned, are stored in the Ali Baba cave by the Protocol Service, whose other tasks include working behind the scenes to ensure the smooth running of high-level diplomatic meetings and signing ceremonies.

Gifts include twin statues of Ghandi, a strange lamp and a caricature of former Commission president José Manuel Barroso | Emmet Livingstone

The arrival of the didgeridoo, addressed to Katainen, puzzled the Protocol Service, who emailed his staff to ask what was “the exact function” of the person who sent it. “I have no idea!” came the reply. “I checked in the Internet and he seems to be some kind of artist. VP Katainen does not know him.”

Eventually the Protocol Service ascertained, in response to questions from POLITICO, that the gift was made at a G20 summit and had been auctioned off for charity, in line with the rules.

“Our rules on gifts enhance transparency and eliminate any potential for a conflict of interest,” said a spokesperson for the Commission, adding that few national governments enforce such strict rules.

A Protocol Service official, who requested anonymity to preserve diplomatic neutrality, said busy commissioners often forget about gifts and only notice them again when clearing out their offices at the end of their mandate, said the official.

Some commissioners’ staff are extra persnickety about gifts. In January, for instance, commissioner Elżbieta Bieńkowska’s staff dutifully declared a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses given by an Italian industrial group, which was only worth €145.

Slovenia’s commissioner Violeta Bulc had to declare “27 framed Slovenian paintings,” as well as a pearl necklace, watch and earrings given to her by a Qatari minister.

Up for auction

For the most part, the diplomatic gifts get put up for auction by Femmes d’Europe — a Brussels women’s association founded by a daughter of Winston Churchill and now run by the wife of the Commission’s first vice president, Frans Timmermans.

The “Ali Baba cave” acts as a sort of clearing house for nice gifts: They sit there for a few months and then get picked up for auction.
But there are some gifts that have gathered dust in the room for years: either because they’re completely kitsch, or because they come from a high-ranking diplomat — or both.

“Those [gifts] that are diplomatically sensitive we can’t give away,” said the Protocol Service official, who added it might be embarrassing if the Commission were seen to discard carefully chosen gifts.

A caricature of former Commission president José Manuel Barroso | Emmet Livingstone

Gifts that come out of international diplomatic exchanges fit this bill, such as the two identical plastic busts of Mahatma Ghandi that sit on the shelves.
And then there’s the real tack.

Painfully awkward portraits of former commissioners rest against the walls. One is a caricature of former European Commission president José Manuel Barroso, framed in gaudy gold. There are also plastic trinkets, model airplanes, a giant commemorative Manchester United book, and cheap jewelry boxes galore. There’s even a ceremonial axe.

Commissioners are aware of the room beneath their offices, but few have time to think about it. The Protocol Service official knew of only one — from the first Barroso Commission — who had requested a tour.

The Ali Baba cave is also emptier than it once was. Diplomacy has moved online and top officials all over the world talk to each other almost constantly over email. Face-to-face meetings are less of an occasion, and consequently zany gifts are rarer.

“Before, people used to exchange more gifts,” said the Protocol Service official. “Now, as times have changed and communication has become more intense, this is not necessarily the case anymore.”